The Spice of Life
by Rejected Angel
Summary: Life becomes a little less tedious for 30-year-old journalist Kathryn Gibbs when she is assigned to write an article on the Battle City tournament. However, in order to get in she needs to pose as a duelist. Full summary inside.


Summary: Life becomes a little less tedious for 30-year-old journalist Kathryn Gibbs when she is assigned to write an article on the Battle City tournament. However, in order to get in she needs to pose as a duelist. Let's just say…the spice of life is burning her tongue, and she'll give anything for a nice, stiff drink. Rated for language, alcohol and a healthy dose of reality.

A/N: I am writing this purely for fun. I'm one of those people whose suspended disbelief can only stretch so far, and Yugioh has been pulling me to the limit lately. So, this is my way of making a bit of commentary. Yes, Kathy is (shamelessly) a mouthpiece for my observations…but she is NOT me. Also, please do not mistake this for a YGO bashing fic, 'cause it's not. It's just me poking a little fun at the naiveté of the YGO cast.

Why this character is not a Mary-Sue: There is no way she can be a Mary-Sue because a) She isn't young enough. b) She isn't flawless enough. c) She isn't pretty enough. d) She ain't a cradle robber, so she won't be falling for any of the main characters. e) She has way too many issues. And f) She's a borderline alcoholic. Just wanted to clear that up preemptively so that I can tell any zealot Mary-Sue hating flamers to refer to the first chapter.

Warnings: Sarcasm, extreme language and alcohol abuse (nothing too bad, though)

God, did she have a headache.

The computer screen at which she gazed was painfully bright; the keys with which she typed were painfully stiff, and the coffee, which she drank, was painfully stale. Of course, it didn't help that the word document in which she was typing was painfully empty. And now, it seemed, that all these painful occurrences had chosen to manifest themselves inside her left temple, causing an excruciating throbbing that reached all the way down to her neck. She wondered, briefly, if it had anything to do with the fact that she had gotten drunk the night before, and promptly came to the conclusion that this was very likely.

Cursing her own stupidity for getting drunk on a Sunday night, she began typing- only to erase it a few moments later for its blatant crappy-ness. "Having trouble there, Kat?"

Suppressing a groan, she turned to see her boss grinning at her impishly. "What the fuck do you want?" His grin didn't falter. "And how many times have I told you not to call me that?"

"I dunno, a couple o' hundred." He said with a shrug. "You know, I really should fire you for rudeness, Gibbs. You're lucky I like you, or else you'd have been out on your ass a long time ago."

"_Like_ me? Don't talk shit, O'Brien. You keep me here because I'm the best damn investigative journalist in the entire fucking city of New York."

"And modest too."

"Shut up. It isn't arrogance, it's fact." She gave a soft chuckle. "I mean, who else is stupid enough to go out and do the shit I do?"

He smirked in shared amusement, and looked up at her computer monitor. "Speaking of your shit, what's with the blank screen?"

"Can't a writer have a little time to think?"

"You've been sitting here for an _hour_."

"Your point?"

"You have a hangover."

"…Perhaps."

"Not to mention, your assignment is quite boring."

"It's an article about corrupt politicians…it _is_ getting a tad redundant."

"So," He said, motioning for her to get up, "Why don't you step into my office, and we can…correct that."

Oh.

He'd been planning this the entire time.

Shit.

* * *

Justin O'Brien was a tall, clean-shaven man of forty-five. He had cropped, graying brown hair, green eyes and a sturdy chin. His secretary had told Kathryn that he had been very handsome when he was younger. However, a twenty year caffeine addiction, stress, and a three-year long, very bitter divorce, had finally caught up with him- as was evident in the lines of his face. Not that he was ugly, of course; just a little bit worse for the ware. 

Of course, when he had that look in his eyes, the I'm-a-sadistic-bastard-and-proud-of-it look, it was sometimes easy to forget that he was forty-five at all.

"Okay, O'Brien, what's this new assignment you've got for me?" She looked at him, finding that he had made himself comfortable in his office chair, reclining slightly with his feet on the desk. He positively oozed smugness.

"Let's just say, that should you choose to accept it, you'll be getting an all-expense paid trip to Japan." She glowered at his reply.

"That doesn't answer my question," She said, flatly.

He gave her Cheshire-cat smile. "You're right. It doesn't." Then, before she could reply, his attention was no longer focused on her. It appeared that he was shuffling around in his desk drawer. It was clear after a few moments that he had found whatever it was that he was looking for, as he once again looked up at her. Then, lifting up his right hand in triumph, he gave her yet another infuriating grin. "Do you know what this is?"

She assumed he meant the object in his hand. "A deck of cards?"

He nodded. "Yep. But the big question is…what type of cards?"

Kathryn gazed at it blankly. "Poker? I dunno." Then, with the a lurch of horrified realization, distorting her features into some twisted parody of Freddy Mercury mid-song, she said, "Oh no. Don't tell me I have to write something about _that _bullshit."

"It's not bullshit, it's Duel Monsters."

"To me they're synonymous."

He gave her a puzzled look. "You know, I never could quite figure out why you hate this game so much. Personally I find it intriguing."

"_Intriguing? _My ass. That game is the single most self-indulgent, egocentric piece of shit on the face of the planet! Do you know what Kaiba Corp was making before the holographic projectors? Shit for the military! I should know, I wrote an article on those corporate bastards. Granted, that isn't much better, but at least helping single-testicled, mustachioed dictators fulfill their hopeless dreams of world domination was _somewhat _productive." She took a deep breath. "I mean, they _could _be finding some sort of way to synthesize food for third-world countries…But no! They have to go make some fucking technological monstrosity of a holographic system for a mother-fucking CARD GAME. Trading card games I can deal with, but the sheer amount of resources that have gone into this one disgusts me. I mean, come on!" She took in yet another deep breath. "A card game is just a card game no matter how much you buffer it with _fancy shit_." She spat the last two words like a rather nasty curse.

"So…I take it you won't do it then."

It was her turn to grin. "Are you joking? Now you've gotten me all riled up!" Her grin took on a malicious quality. "Now I really want to dig up some shit that will get the mommies and daddies of the world to squirm with petition-signing impulses."

He smiled wryly. "You sure have a way with words, Gibbs."

"That's why you hired me. Now, what is this assignment?"

He put the pack of Duel Monster cards on the desk. "Ever heard of Duelist Kingdom?"

Kathryn gave him a look that clearly said 'There are no stupid questions, only stupid people.' "Was it possible _not _to know? They had that tournament plastered all of over the news for _weeks_."

"Alright, so you know about it. Now, Seto Kaiba's decided it's _his_ turn to hold a tournament of his own. It is to be called…" He paused dramatically, "Battle City!"

"Um…are you feeling okay?"

"Never better. Why?"

"You've just never struck me as the type to use dramatic pauses in a normal conversation…Have you started smoking _sage _again?"

"No, I have not. And even if I was- there is absolutely nothing wrong with smoking sage! It helps me get to sleep."

"_Sure _it does. Whatever, just carry on telling me the goddamn assignment." She pinned him with a glare. "This time without the theatrics."

"I sense hostility…and PMS."

"O'Brien!"

"Okay, okay. Jeez." He eased his features into a grin…yet again. "Where was I? Oh yes. Kaiba has decided to hold a tournament called Battle City. I want you to go to Japan, pose as a duelist, and somehow find a way to get into that tournament."

"In order to-

"In order to write a daily article about your adventures there!" He exclaimed cheerfully. "Duel Monsters is the big _shiz-nit _right now, and-"

"Wait…_shiz-nit_? Are you _sure _you're not high?"

"Positive. Just keepin' up with the times, ye know? Anyway, Duel Monsters is the big thing right now, and if we can get the inside scoop, well, the _Daily Scoop _will sell like hot cakes!" If he were a cartoon character at that point, his eyes would have been replaced by dollar signs. "And of course, you're the only person who can do the job, because you're the only person I have who speaks fluent Japanese."

She had come to learn Japanese due to a series of partially related, highly improbable (and quite painful)circumstances involving a bottle of Gin, partially melted rock road ice cream and...a celibate Buddhist nun. Nevertheless, she _was _fluent in Japanese, and that was what mattered.

"So, do you accept?"

She smirked slyly. "Sure. Just don't expect me to be complementary or anything."

* * *

A/N: Just a couple a notes. 

1) That rant that Kathy went on does not reflect my opinion of the actual YGO card game. However, it does reflect my general opinion of the game played in the Anime series. I am not bashing YGO with it, nor am I bashing the game in it. After all, she never said the game was _bad_, she just said that it was self-indulgent, and therefore pisses her off.

2) My older sister contributed that line concerning Freddy Mercury, just to let you know.


End file.
